And Then It Came To Me
by ChibiBeth18
Summary: Wait for it, Ralphie. It'll come to you. Complete Dasey or the building up to with a little insight from a little-used character.
1. How I Met Your Stepbrother

Oooo! Oooo! Lookit! A new one! There's something about working at an agricultural research station that just stimulates the mind. Seriously.

Summary: Wait for it, Ralphie. It'll come to you…

Disclaimer: If I owned Life With Derek, Phoenix Satori's _University Steps_ would be the basis for the fifth season script. With her permission, of course.

How I Met Your Stepbrother

I'm not stupid, despite what most people think. It just takes me longer to get the obvious stuff because I'm so focused on the obscure. Which in and of itself is probably the reason I saw It before anybody else. Except for Lizzie and Edwin. I think they've always known, even while I was still under the illusion that STEPsibling equaled sibling. How wrong of me.

When I first met Casey McDonald, it was as Derek Venturi, her maybe-stepbrother. Derek was one of my best friends, so, as the wonderful friend that I was, posing as him to meet his apparent future was the least I could do. I was blindsided by how adorable she was, with her little private-school outfit, braces, and bangs. Despite her obvious crazy (neurotic) perfectionist tendencies, she was nice and totally into me as Derek.

Why the hell had the real Derek given up the chance to eat lunch with an attractive girl? It made no sense that my friend, the known ruler of the school, would pass up such an incredible opportunity. I didn't dwell on it too long, though, because, I, unlike real-Derek, was not going to look a gift girl in the mouth.

When we got to lunch (Derek hovering like a little black cloud in the background), Casey was saying something about how it was nice, getting to know each other. I was completely honest and told her I nearly threw up when I saw her. In a good way. She thought it was sweet.

I was getting ready to make my final move when Derek swooped in like a freaking flying monkey and demanded to speak to me.

"Actually, we were enjoying a really lovely lunch together, right Casey?" I turned him down quickly because, dammit, _Casey_ _liked me_. She smiled at me across the table before turning to Derek.

"Right, Derek. I'm sorry, we haven't met," she was open and friendly and an obvious threat to Derek in some way.

"And I'm okay with that," he sniped across the table as he tried to tug me from my chair.

I jerked away from him and turned indignant, "Don't be rude to Casey, Ralph." I can play the game just as well.

Casey obviously didn't need me to stick up for her, because she immediately added, "Yeah, Ralph, maybe you can learn some manners from Derek."

She must have been a real threat to him, I realized, when he responded, "Yeah, and maybe you can learn to take a hint."

"Excuse me?" she gasped, taken aback. Apparently, nobody had ever been as rude to her as Derek was capable of being.

"You're excused," Derek said. He slapped down some money on her tray and made shooing movements with his hands, "Here's five bucks. Why don't you go check out the caf's apple cobbler, I hear it's made with taters," the meaningful look he sent my way was lost on me as I watched Casey rise with the dignity of a haughty princess.

"While I'm gone, maybe you can teach your friend some manners," she hissed at me. She flounced off; turning back only to grab the money Derek had left her.

I turned to Derek to find that he had grabbed Casey's fork and started eating the food she had left behind, "Dude, I think she likes me."

He snorted as he switched to eating with his fingers, "Yeah, you think she likes _Derek_. The guy who could possibly be her stepbrother."

It was supposed to mean something to me, but I honestly hadn't a clue what he was on about.

"Wait for it. It'll come to you," he mumbled around some food.

Stepbrother. Step—oh. It came to me, alright.

"Ew."

A small smirk crossed his lips as he patted me on the shoulder, "There you go, buddy."

At that point of time, I really should have seen It, but I didn't. I should have seen it in the way he immediately (stiffly) stood and walked out of the caf when Casey returned with some of that cobbler and rambling about the rudeness of some people and didn't I know that friends like that would lead me wrong some day?

It (the real It) actually came to me some months later, after Casey had officially become the stepsister (and therefore, the enemy), during one of Derek's many pranks on her. He had been telling Sam and me in giddy detail about his latest conquest of the Casey-is-_pissed_ variety involving her not having any clothes _again_, when Casey stormed down the hall and directly towards him.

It hadn't been the first time Derek's clothes had found their way onto Casey due to some prank he had pulled, but it was the first time his extra practice jersey was at the top of the clean pile. She had done the thing girls do to shirts that are to big for them, tying it off in the back and showing off just a hint of skin. The jeans were held in place by a belt that had obviously been confiscated from Derek's dad, but did not detract from the awesome sight that was Casey bearing down on Derek.

She had backed him into the lockers, and her screams could probably be heard school wide. It was a wonder the principal hadn't gotten involved. Actually, I caught sight of the poor man rounding the corner, only to turn right back around when he saw what was actually happening. Casey scared a lot of people.

"…blew up my clothes! Everything! Even my underwear, do you even no what that means, Derek Venturi?!" she shrieked as she poked him in the chest. For once Derek was too terrified to do more than shake his head, eyes wide, "Mom's was too big and Lizzie doesn't _have_ anything yet, so now I am exposed for all of Ontario to see! _I hope you're happy_."

That being said, she turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving Derek plastered against the locker, where he didn't move until one of the new teachers (who had no _clue_ about the Derek-Casey dynamic) came up next to him and kindly suggested that Derek lock himself in the locker room under a cold shower before he returned to class.

That was when It hit me square on the forehead with the force of a mack truck, watching Derek stumble in the direction of the locker rooms. It had nothing to do with taters and Derek had dug himself a hole that involved daily cold showers and lots of leaning against Casey's door.


	2. Tuesday Afternoon Fever

Disclaimer: There was a time when I could have (would have) weaseled my way into owning _Life with Derek_, but alas, I find myself thinking "_Disney would hate me_". And so, no, I don't own _Life with Derek_. –sigh-

Tuesday Afternoon Fever

Derek and Casey dancing together on national TV.

Wait, no. Not enough emphasis.

Derek and Casey _dancing_ together on national _TV_.

We are still not there.

_Derek_ and _Casey_ dancing _together_ on _national TV_

Oh, now that's just scary.

When Derek told me his partner had changed to Casey, I didn't think much on it. They both liked to win, and they had already proven to be a pretty good team when the opportunity presented itself (with Casey bossing her way along and Derek doing his own damn thing, somehow managing bring about the required results). Besides, Derek had probably fixed the game. So I didn't worry. At least not until Amanda forced me to watch the YouTube postings of last year's competition. I watched Sadia dance her second place dance.

"That's hot," I said with a grin. Amanda shook her head despairingly and clicked on the winning routine. As I watched the two dancers writhe and twist against each other, I chillingly remembered what a perfectionist Casey was, what she would do to win. I promptly panicked and realized:

Derek and Casey were going to _dance together on national TV. _

I tried Derek's cell first, praying under my breath that Casey hadn't confiscated it for rehearsal.

"_Hey, you've reached D-man. Leave a message and I__** might**__ get back to you…beep!"_

Dammit, Casey. You and your perfectionism.

Casey's cell held much of the same result: _"Yo, Spacey's voicemail was so utterly lame, I felt the need to save you poor people the embarrassment of listening to her. In fact, she's so lame; you probably have the wrong number. Try again, man."_

The beep cut off Casey's shriek of "DE-REK!" and Derek's sniggers. Those two were going to kill me. No other way around it.

I sat defeated for a moment, thinking hopelessly about the trap Derek had set up for himself. And I had no way of warning him. Both of their cell phones were off, meaning they were probably rehearsing said trap. Maybe they were at the auditorium…

It suddenly dawned on me that Casey, being Casey, would not have been away from the house without one of their cell phones on. Marti could have found pills and thought they were candy. Edwin could have gotten his head stuck between the railings on the stairs. The risk was too much.

Congratulating myself, I quickly dialed the Venturi-McDonald residence and got Edwin.

"Edwin! Buddy! Listen, can you get Derek for me? It's kind of an emergency," I coaxed, bouncing up and down in my seat with nervous energy.

He let me down easy, citing Casey as the problem with my request, "She said any emergency could wait until after she and Derek win that competition. Sorry, Ralph."

"'S okay," I mumbled, slumping slightly. Casey. Maybe she was doing it on purpose.

"Say, Ralph," Edwin began, bringing me back to earth for a moment. "Do you, erm, by any chance have junk food at your house?"

Was that a trick question? "Yes?"

He laughed nervously, "Would you mind if I came over for a while? Just for an hour or so. I wouldn't be a bother…" he was cut off by a sharp yell from Lizzie, who had apparently entered the room in time to hear Edwin's question to me.

"Edwin!" she snatched the phone from him, "Sorry, Ralph. Edwin is in the middle of an intervention right now. Try again later." She hung up with a finality that had me fearing for Edwin's life.

I got Marti the next time I called.

"Hey Smarti! I need to talk--."

"It's Marti. Only Smerek and Casey can call me that," she cut me off quickly, lest I forgot what she had been insisting for two years.

Well, okay then. "Marti. I need to talk to Smerek, I mean Derek."

She instantly brightened, "Okay, Ralphie!"

Ralphie. She and Amanda were the only ones who called me that anymore.

Derek came on sounding slightly manic, "Ralph, I don't have the time. Casey just threatened to gouge out my eyes if I take longer than four minutes. Make it quick."

My words came out in a rush, because, honestly, at that point, all I could think about was a repeat of Clash of the Bands, "Derek, dude, _think _about what you are about to do."

"And what exactly am I about to do, Ralph?"

"_Dance on national TV with Casey_."

He groaned, "Thank you, Ralph. I think after the six _billionth_ time Casey engraved it into my scull, I got it. I _really_ don't need you to point it out for me."

"B-but, Derek…"

I was interrupted by Edwin's faint voice on the other end of the line, "_Derek, Casey told me to tell you that if you didn't go back into the living room in ten seconds, she'd come in, pull your balls off and stick them in your ears. Forcibly._"

Derek scoffed, "Missy Priss Prude-Pants wouldn't know a pair balls if they hit her in the face," yeah, I heard the wavering in his voice, thanks. He _almost_ sounded convincing.

I could see Edwin shrug his shoulders, "_That may be, but her eyes are starting to glow and her nails may or may not be elongating._"

Derek sighed, "Well, it seems we are having the Return of the Thing From Planet It in the living room. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Ralph," there was a rustling in the background as Edwin came up next to him.

"_Is that Ralph?_"

"What's it to you, Edweirdo?"

"_I want to talk to him._"

"Fine. Whatever," a rush of air signaled the phone transferring from one Venturi to the other.

"So what's the current situation?" Edwin said after a while.

"Derek's impending doom via public broadcasting. No big deal," I sighed. Derek was a goner. I really needed to choose a different pastime. As I sat there contemplating the glorious yet short future my friend was about to endure at the hands of his stepsister, Edwin seemed to be working up the nerve to ask me for more food. I was hit with an idea.

"Ralph, about that junk food…"

I cut him off, "Edwin, what would you do for a case of Twinkies?"

Silence.

"Probably lick a car battery. I am in desperate need of refined sugar and Lizzie cut me off."

Poor kid. Nobody should interfere with a teenager's right to eat junk food. "Can you get Derek to watch last year's dance competition? Specifically the winning routine."

"Ralph," I could almost see his delighted grin, "For a case of Twinkies, I could get him to _memorize_ last year's winning routine. I'm a risk taking kind of guy. D'you need it done by –"

"Tonight," one must be decisive when attempting to save one's best friend, "The dance competition is in two days. Knowing Derek, things won't sink in for a while. Start working on him tonight." As an after thought, I added, "And for the love of meatloaf, don't let him know what you're really doing."

"Consider it done. Derek needs to be saved from himself," lowering his voice, Edwin confided, "I saw the outfit Casey's planning on wearing. It's short. And sheer."

Which was all kinds of _bad_. Derek didn't stand a _chance_.

"Let's just hope this intervention helps in time."

The call from Derek didn't come until the next night when I was debating just going over to the Venturi-McDonald residence and hitting him over the head with the nearest blunt object. And people called me slow…

"Ralph. I'm dancing with Casey. On TV. What was I _thinking?_" he was hoarse, which probably meant he had been hurling for the past half hour. I stayed quiet. This was, after all, his revelation. I had warned him. It was time to let him put two and two together.

"She's such a _perfectionist_. Of course she's going to make it into the best, most _freaking difficult routine ever_," he groaned, audibly tripping over a pile of clothes. He was pacing, which meant he was thinking. Good. Whispering, he added, "I have to pick her up and twirl her around, Ralph."

I winced sympathetically. After seeing the YouTube videos, I knew that picking up a girl in a dance involved a certain amount of legs being wrapped around the body of her partner. And Casey had a lot of leg.

"D, I did warn you. It's kind of late to change now."

Derek had apparently thrown himself face down on his bed, because when he answered, his voice was muffled, "She's making me wear a sparkly hoody. I didn't even know they _made_ hoodies like that. Everyone at school is going to see this. I am _screwed_."

Somehow I had a feeling he would have more to worry than wearing sparkly hoodies on TV. I didn't tell him that, though. In fact, I didn't even tell him anything except for, "Tell Edwin the baked goods will be at his door in two days."

I hung up to his exclamation, "Edwin? Ralph, did you-?!"

The intervention had been given. Now it was up to Derek to decide what to do with it.

The day of the dance competition, Amanda and I sat in her living room, waiting apprehensively for the show to start. Every few minutes, I would get up and pace, which was driving Amanda and her little sister, Jenny, crazy.

After the third time I stood up, Jenny exploded, "Amanda, if you can't get

him house trained, I want him out! How am I supposed to watch this dance thing with _your_ boyfriend acting like an idiot in front of the TV?"

I gave her a distracted smile and plopped down on the couch next to Amanda, "Sorry, Mini-Muffin. I guess I'm nervous."

Amanda laced her fingers with mine and flashed me a reassuring smile, "It'll be fine, Ralphie. Casey won't let them be anything less than brilliant."

Groaning, I leaned back against the couch, "That's what I'm afraid of."

The first two routines were mediocre at best. Sadia and her (Casey's) partner did a type of Middle Eastern dance infused with hip-hop. When Casey and Derek were announced as a stepbrother and sister act, Amanda flinched and Jenny leaned forward in anticipation. I distinctly heard her murmur, "Oh this is going to be good."

Casey came on stage (alone) wearing the flimsy, blue thing Edwin had described. Techno music began with a fairly fast beat, sending Casey into more of a musical type number than a jazz dance. Out of the corner of the stage, Derek stumbled on with a slightly dazed expression on his face. He then proceeded to twitch…to the music.

Jenny promptly exploded, "Jesus, he's doing the Thriller."

"Jen, hush," Amanda admonished absently. Her hand really was becoming too tight.

By the end of the routine, we were all leaning forward in our seats, gaping. My knuckles had turned white and I would probably have to have it amputated, but I wasn't paying much attention to that. Casey and Derek bowed to the roar of the applause and hurried off to prepare for the final judging.

"Ralphie?" Amanda whispered, staring in awe at the TV.

I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding, "Yes, Muffin?"

She turned dazedly toward me, her eyes wide, "Please tell me you recorded that."

…Thank god for DVR.

Jenny glanced surreptitiously between the TV, where the judge was making her decision, and Amanda and I. Finally, as Casey nearly vibrated with anticipation on screen, Jenny rolled her eyes and flounced in the direction of the kitchen.

"High schoolers are _weird_…"

The next day, there was thankfully only praise for Derek and several nods in Casey's direction at school. To their faces. With half the school secretly looking on, Derek had led Casey away from where I face planted during my crazy legs routine. As I lay flat on the ground, watching and seeing when Derek's hand came unobtrusively to rest on the small of Casey's back, Tinker came up beside me looking completely heartbroken.

"I give them until graduation," he said quietly. I looked up at him to see he too was watching their retreating backs.

Pushing myself to my feet, I put a friendly arm around his shoulders. I led him in the opposite direction and winked at Amanda as we passed her, "Come on, Tink. I think it's time to introduce you to the betting pool."

I've never seen Trevor so happy to open the betting pool to an outside player.

A.N. Whaaaa!!! That was intense! I think that was the longest one-shot I've ever written. For shizz. Because of this story, I have decided to write the episodes out of chronological order so that I can just add a one-shot as the inspiration hits. I had tons of fun writing this, even though I know it probably doesn't make a lick of sense. I do know the ending was a bit weak. Bleh.

To address several problems people might have:

_Ralph seems more smartical than he should be._ Yeah, well, some of my reviewers have established that some of Ralph dumb-assery is an act. I think that as he gets older (in the series) he actually is more mature than he lets on.

_The betting pool. WTF?_ In the one-shot for "The Bet" I was planning on having Trevor and Ralph start a betting pool with those who know about Derek and Casey being mutually attracted to each other. I'm pretty positive that Trevor (who should have been brought back) saw the tension between the two of them. Throughout the rest of this series, Ralph makes a point of bringing ex boyfriends and girlfriends onto his list of allies.

_Does poor Edwin ever get his Twinkies?_ Meh. I don't like that loose end. Let's just say he does and Lizzie ends up confiscating them.

There is probably more, but I can't think of anything at the moment. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If not -shrugs- dear me, I sincerely wish for you to be gentle.

Caoi!


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